Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
by Rae Rihanna
Summary: CHAPTER TWO UP! For anyone disappointed in Rowling's final chapter in her epic series. Or anyone who would just like to hear another take. Full of appropriate characterization, answers to all those plot holes, and believable romance. Enjoy!
1. Prologue

**A/N: For the past ten years, JK Rowling has enthralled her fans with tales of Harry Potter. Detailed, imaginative, and unpredictable are three words I would use to describe the stories JK has woven for us. And I am eternally grateful for the world that she's created, one I play with often.**

**However, as a fellow author and avid reader, I was sorely disappointed with Deathly Hallows. It was predictable and trite, falling short of the high expectations I'd set for this final chapter in one of the most successful book series in the history of literature. I understand that not everyone agrees with this opinion and respect that.**

**For those of you who do agree with me, however, this is for you. This is ****Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows**** as I think it should have gone. But, and let me make this perfectly clear, this story will not be a "fan girl's wet dream," to quote a friend. I will attempt to keep all characters as they were originally written (pre-HBP), not deviate too much from the original plot, and stick to the rules of the universe (rules that JK, unfortunately, seemed to have forgotten in DH).**

**On the other hand, this is fan fiction and I reserve the right to change anything I (or you) want. Yes, you. I'm writing this just as much for all my readers (assuming I have any) as I am for myself. So if there is anything you want to see in particular, anything that really upset you in ****Deathly Hallows****, let me know. I'll see what I can do. And at the end of each chapter, I'll hold a poll. The results won't always determine what I write, but they will have a strong impact.**

**Thank you for your time. I hope you find as much enjoyment from reading my version of ****Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows**** as I had writing it. Comments, as always are appreciated, but be warned that any flamers will find themselves on the receiving end of my Bat Bogey Hex.**

Joanne Murray nee Rowling sat quietly by one of the many windows of The Killiechassie House, sipping a fine Earl Grey from a rather plain cup. Looking down at the slightly chipped dish, she smiled, reminiscing on days past when 19-th century Scotland estates and Georgian homes were merely the things of dreams.

Mrs. Murray was a simple, God-fearing woman. And the world's first billionaire author. Yes, mustn't forget that as well. Joanne had made her mark on society by writing a book series entitled Harry Potter. And, though the press had uncovered many secrets from her past, they were never able to discover the most intriguing of them all.

Jo, as her father dubbed her, had been dreaming of Harry Potter for thirty years. It started off small at first, a word here or a picture there, but soon Jo found herself swimming in a sea of dreams unlike anything she'd ever imagined. A whole new world was created in her mind, one filled with beautiful magic and frightening possibilities.

The visions, as she came to call them, were sporadic and nonlinear. It took her nearly twenty years to piece it all together. There were some questions still left unanswered, but Jo knew she could contain it no longer and thus began to chronicle the adventures she'd seen played out in her dreams, filling in the blanks as she so desired.

_What a vivid imagination my brain has!_ She thought.

She never could have guessed that her dreams were real and would not have believed it if you told her so. Until now.

Unbeknownst to Mrs. Murray, she was not alone in her quaintly decorated parlor. Another figure was hidden in the shadows, watching her silently, waiting for the most opportune moment to confront the unsuspecting authoress. It presented itself rather quickly, as Joanne set down the cup of tea and rose from her chair, leisurely making her way towards the door.

Smirking beneath its hood, the figure stepped from the shadows, effectively startling its target. Before Joanne had a chance to scream for help, the figure had grabbed a hold of her arm and with a light 'pop' they were gone.

The room in which they appeared was dark and obviously impenetrable, but that didn't keep Joanne Murray from screaming bloody murder. Pulling out a long, thin stick, the figure mumbled a few words under its breath, effectively silencing the frightened woman.

Joanne looked up in shock, unwilling to believe the implications of the last few seconds. Shaking her head and gathering her wits, Mrs. Murray lunged at her kidnapper in an attempt to remove the only obvious weapon. The cloaked figure snorted and danced out of reach, whispering more undeterminable words that shot rope from the stick and bound together Joanne's hands.

Gasping, Jo could no longer deny her earlier fears. This was a real, live _witch_. One who quite possibly meant her harm. The horrified look on her face must have given her away, because the figure finally decided to speak.

"I'm not going to hurt you, silly bint. I just want to show you something."

Surprised to hear a decidedly feminine voice coming from such a seemingly sinister figure, Joanne barely had time to register that the woman was walking towards something in the center of the room. Cautiously following her kidnapper, Joanne was intrigued when she reached a deep silver basin, filled with swirling silver mist. She gasped again and made to talk, before remembering her forced silence. With a wave of her wand, the other woman removed the enchantment. Jo cleared her throat and tried again.

"That's a Pensieve."

"Obviously." The derision in the woman's voice made Jo take a step back. "It's what's inside that I want you to see."

Jo wiggled her bare toes nervously. "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

The woman sighed exasperatedly. "Listen, I don't want to force you, but I will if I have to. So just do us both a favor and take a look, okay? I swear, nothing bad is going to happen to you and when you're done I'll take you straight back to your home."

Considering this, Jo shifted from foot to foot before giving the woman a small nod and slowly submerging her head into the silvery mist.


	2. Chapter 1

**The Dark Lord Ascending**

And War, which for a moment was no more,

Did glut himself again; a meal was bought

With blood, and each sate sullenly apart

Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;

All earth was but one thought and that was death

-an excerpt from _Darkness_ by Lord Byron

The door to the drawing room opened slowly and deliberately. Draco Malfoy, like every other occupant, turned his head, the weight of the suffocating silence making him sluggish and not at all comfortable. Even when he saw that it was his godfather and Yaxley, one of the least frightening of those gathered, Draco couldn't calm his nerves or the frantic beating of his heart. Try as he might, he also could not help but glance up every now and then at the pale, naked figure suspended above the mahogany table.

"Yaxley. Snape," said a high, clear voice from the head of the table. Draco immediately froze, his eyes downcast and tracing the elaborate design of the table. "You are very nearly late."

Draco listened as the conversation carried on, but played oblivious, his eyes only glancing up when the revolving figure would cast shadows on his deathly pale fingers. They spoke of the Order of the Phoenix, The Ministry, and Harry Potter, who (for some inexplicable reason) Draco could no longer hate. In fact, the Malfoy heir felt some sort of twisted link between he and the Boy-Who-Lived. Sickening, but true. Both boys had, after all, been forced into an ill fate at such a young age due to the actions of their parents, or inaction as the case may be.

A sudden wail sounded, a terrible, drawn-out cry of misery and pain. Many of those at the table looked downward, startled, for the sound had seemed to issue from below their feet. Draco made no movement. He knew who resided in the dungeons of the Manor. And, though he hadn't as of yet been asked to join in the torture, Draco knew it was only a matter of time before he would be called on to perform the heinous deed. His parents could only intervene for so long, especially if his loyalty were called into question.

"Wormtail," said Voldemort, his eyes focused on the revolving body above, "have I not spoken to you about keeping our prisoner quiet?"

"Yes, m-my Lord," gasped a small man on the opposite side of the table. He'd been sitting so low in his chair that Draco had nearly forgot his presence. Grey eyes flickered up to watch the short man scramble from the room and it was all he could do not to sneer in derision. Draco had always hated rats of any kind and Wormtail most assuredly took first place in that category.

"As I was saying," continued Voldemort, looking around at the tense faces of his followers. Draco averted his gaze once more. Talented Occlumens or not, he did not want to risk the Dark Lord sensing his fear any more than it already showed. "I understand better now. I shall need, for instance, to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter."

Draco's eyes widened and he could almost feel the shock reverberating throughout the room. Take away one's wand? He might as well have announced that he wanted to borrow one of their arms! But, it was the words that Voldemort spoke next that finally raised Draco's gaze from the table and to the figure on his left.

"No volunteers? Let's see… Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore."

Resisting the urge to drop his mouth, Draco felt sick at the pang of guilt that struck his stomach. His father, who'd once been the epitome of nobility and confidence, appeared yellowish and waxy in the firelight. His eyes were sunken and shadowed and a voice whispered venomously "your fault" in Draco's head. He couldn't deny it. This was his fault. If only he'd accepted Dumbledore's offer before… no! He couldn't think such things in the presence of the Dark Lord. He had to concentrate on something else, anything else. The detail of the wood work, how he'd destroyed his nails with his incessant biting, the way the suspended figure's lips were parted, as if it were screaming silently…

"My Lord?" his father asked.

"Your wand, Lucius. I require your wand."

"I…"

Draco shot a furtive look at his parents and hoped he was the only one that noticed the way his mother lightly squeezed his father's wrist before Lucius Malfoy responded. He put his hands into his robes, withdrew a wand, and passed it along to Voldemort, who held it up in front of his red eyes, examining it closely.

"What is it?"

"Elm, my Lord," whispered his father, the pain absent in his voice, but present in the slight tremor of his right leg.

"And the core?"

"Dragon-dragon heartstring." There had been a time when Lucius would look on his son proudly whenever the mention of one of their wands came up. Everyone in the Malfoy bloodline had used a dragon heartstring core in their wands for as far back as history would trace and Draco was the first to have differed. His wand was powered by a unicorn hair and, when he'd first bought it, Ollivander had said it was a sign of changing tides and rising power. Though clearly, Draco thought the man was wrong. For all Draco had brought to the Malfoy name as of yet was humiliation. But now was not the time for a trip down memory lane and Draco tossed the thought from his mind.

"Good," said Voldemort. He drew his own wand and compared the lengths. Draco watched his father make an involuntary movement. For a fraction of a second, it seemed he expected to receive Voldemort's wand in exchange for his own. The gesture was not missed by Voldemort, whose eyes widened maliciously. Draco cast his own back down in an effort to hide the pure hatred that blazed through them for a split second. But he quickly squashed his emotion; he had to contain his feelings, or at least some of them. Having the Dark Lord believe you feared him was one thing; you'd be stupid not to be afraid. But if he realized that Draco hated him more than he'd ever hated another being in his life… Well, it would not bode well.

"Give you my wand, Lucius? _My_ wand?" Some of the throng sniggered.

"I have given you your liberty, Lucius, is that not enough for you? But I have noticed that you and your family seem less than happy of late… What is it about my presence in your home that displeases you, Lucius?"

Draco felt his face go blank out of reflex. And his mind was not far behind. Surely, Voldemort couldn't suspect that he and his parents were really-

_A pinch of powdered moonstone, three drops of the syrup of hellebore, and essence of belladonna are the necessary components of the Draught of Peace_, Draco thought desperately.

"Nothing—nothing, my Lord!"

"Such _lies_, Lucius…"

_Brew for four days, stirring thrice clockwise and twice counter-clockwise once every six hours-_

But Draco's thoughts were interrupted as something heavy could be heard sliding across the floor beneath the table. The huge snake, for Draco just knew that's what it was, brushed against the boy's legs and it took every bit of self-control he had to not jump in surprise and fear.

The snake emerged to climb slowly up Voldemort's chair. It rose, seemingly endlessly, and came to rest across Voldemort's shoulders: its neck the thickness of a man's thigh; its eyes, with their vertical slits for pupils, unblinking. Voldemort stroked the creature absently with long thin fingers, still looking at Lucius Malfoy.

"Why do the Malfoys look so unhappy with their lot? Is my return, my rise to power, not the very thing they professed to desire for so many years?"

He didn't need to look at his father to know he'd tensed. They were in a precarious, and quite dangerous, situation and Draco felt a swell of relief, followed quickly by guilt, that he didn't have to get them out of this.

"Of course, my Lord," said Lucius Malfoy. His hand shook as he wiped sweat from his upper lip. "We did desire it- we do."

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw his mother give an odd, stiff nod, her eyes (like his) averted from Voldemort and his snake. Draco quickly looked up at the suspended form and nodded once before resuming his utter stillness.

"My Lord," Bellatrix said from beside his mother, her voice constricted with emotion, "it is an honor to have you here, in our family's house. There can be no higher pleasure."

Only Draco noticed his father's right hand spasm in his lap. Though Lucius had never had a problem with Bellatrix before, things were strained now, and having anyone but a true Malfoy refer to this Manor as their home bothered him more than most knew.

As Bellatrix leaned forward, trying to close the gap between her and her beloved Master, Draco dared a glance to compare the two women once more. The Black sisters were as different as two could be. Bellatrix, with her midnight eyes and dark hair, was powerful and intimidating, but it was far more obnoxious and demanding than the power her sister possessed. Narcissa, with her white blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and rigid posture, held a different sort of power. It seemed gentle at first, barely there, but Draco had witnessed Narcissa when she was most incensed and was grateful that such a force had never been turned on him.

Mentally shaking himself, Draco realized he'd lost track of the conversation and recovered just in time, for Voldemort's next question was directed at him. "What say you, Draco?" asked Voldemort, and though his voice was quiet, it carried clearly through the catcalls and jeers that Draco knew were at his family's expense. "Will you baby-sit the cubs?"

The laughing continued and Draco couldn't help from sending one horrified look at his father. Surely Voldemort would not punish them for a rogue cousin's actions? But Lucius was glancing down at his hands, which were turning whiter than usual from the force with which he squeezed them into fists. Draco caught his mother's eye and Narcissa shook her head almost imperceptibly. A surge of relief ran through him, though Draco knew it was foolish. His mother could be wrong, after all, but he doubted it. No, the Dark Lord was more than likely just enjoying their embarrassment. Like his mother, Draco turned his stare at the opposite wall, intent on keeping himself completely neutral. It was harder than it looked.

Voldemort ended the laughter and spoke of what Draco knew would be a genocide, no matter what the Dark Lord compared it to. And then the moment Draco had been dreading the most had arrived. Voldemort flicked life back into the suspended figure, who groaned and began to struggle against invisible bonds.

"Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked Voldemort.

Draco didn't watch. He stared resolutely at the wall and even when the figure moaned, "Severus! Help me!" he remained stoic, of which he was very proud. It wasn't until the Dark Lord turned the question to him did Draco look upon the conscious and exposed form of an elderly woman.

To Voldemort's question, Draco shook his head, careful not to look into his eyes. But that was a lie. Draco did know that woman. Her name was Charity Burbage and she'd taught Muggle Studies at Hogwarts. They'd never talked, never so much as acknowledged each other in the hallways, but Draco could not watch (and in fact felt his whole body tense) as a green light jetted from his father's wand, now in those cold and cruel hands, and hit the old woman square in the chest.

Charity fell onto the table so hard that the ancient mahogany trembled and creaked. She hit close enough to Draco that he could stare into her lifeless eyes and it sent him tumbling to the floor. Before he was able to right himself, he heard Voldemort whisper "Dinner, Nagini."

Draco froze for a moment, stuck between being terrified and disgusted. The snake was going to eat Professor Burbage on their drawing room table! Looking up, Draco caught the grey eyes of his father. Lucius flashed his son a sympathetic look, followed quickly by one of apology, then blanked his face as he hauled Draco back into his chair abruptly, though the young Malfoy noted that his chair did seem quite a few inches further from the table than it had been previously. It was likely due to the force with which Lucius had tossed his son into his seat and for this Draco was grateful.

He didn't look up as Nagini ate Charity Burbage. He didn't dare. Draco knew that if the snake's eating habits didn't cause him to falter, then seeing the looks of glee on the faces of the other Death Eaters would surely do him in. It wasn't long after that Voldemort dismissed them, however. As soon as the snake and its master had gone, the servants dispersed.

At first, Draco moved normally down the hallways, but once he was sure he was out of sight, he bolted. Down the winding corridors of the Malfoy Manor he ran, not thinking of a specific destination, just certain he wanted to be as far away from that room as he could. His journey was unexpectedly cut short, however, when he smacked into a slightly smaller figure as it turned a corner. Both crashed against opposite walls and landed with a thud.

Draco sat still for a moment, disoriented, before quickly standing and glancing at his victim. He relaxed as soon as he realized that he'd not be on the receiving end of a nasty hex for his blunder. It was only Daphne Greengrass. Remembering himself, Draco helped the witch stand.

"Sorry Daphne. I was-"

"Flying down the hall like you were being chased by banshees? Yeah, I noticed."

He couldn't help but smirk and Daphne smiled in return. Draco had been friends with the petite brunette since they were toddlers. Her father, Mordred Greengrass, had worked with his at the Ministry up until the day he died, not more than three weeks ago. Or perhaps "mysteriously disappeared" would be more appropriate. It was suspected that Order members were behind it, he had been a Death Eater after all, but no one could find substantial proof. Left without parents (as her mother had died many years previous) and without a home, Daphne had sought sanctuary from the Ministry officials at Malfoy Manor.

And he'd welcomed the company. She was quiet at school, always observing others, and she'd never quite fit in with the other Slytherin girls, who seemed more interested in a powerful marriage alliance than acquiring power on their own. But when they were alone, Draco found Daphne to be witty and confident. It was a refreshing reprieve from Pansy and her gaggle of followers.

Whatever comment he was about to make was lost as Draco heard voices steadily approaching. One could easily be made out to be Fenrir Greyback, who'd taken quite an interest in Daphne since her arrival. Shooting each other terrified looks, the two Slytherins fled.

They rounded the corner and stopped. They were in the East Wing, with the kitchens lying straight ahead. Assuming Greyback and his companion must be headed in that direction (and lacking time to think up a better plan), Draco threw open the nearest door and pulled Daphne into the closet with him before hastily shutting them in. Surrounded by linens, cleaning supplies, and the overwhelming darkness, Draco and Daphne waited for the others to pass them by.

The girl's grip on his hand was painfully tight and the sweat trickling down his back was quite uncomfortable, but Draco didn't dare move. The voices that had been approaching were gone and at first he thought they were safe, until a loud sniffing noise could be heard at the door. Instinctively pushing Daphne behind him, Draco barely had time to raise his wand before the door was flung open and Greyback stood before them, smiling deviously.

"Well, if it ain't just the girl I was looking for."


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: I sincerely apologize for the previous hiatus. I was largely inspired to write this story by a very dear friend. Shortly after I posed the first chapter, she died in a car accident. To be honest, the thought of continuing this was depressing without her by my side. However, with encouragement from her little sis, I've decided to continue and dedicate this story to my close friend, Melissa. **

**This is for you, baby girl.**

Fenrir Greyback took a step forward and reached a large, hairy hand towards Daphne. Quickly, Draco retaliated by pushing himself and the girl behind him as far back as possible. When they ran into the wall, panic seized Draco as he realized they had nowhere to go. They were trapped and, yet again, it was his fault.

He felt Daphne squeeze his hand gently and a surge of strength rushed through him. Raising his wand higher, Draco shot the approaching werewolf an arctic glare.

"Don't," he snarled.

Fenrir smiled deviously and licked his lips, taking another purposeful step forward. "Or you'll what?"

Silver-grey eyes met murky brown ones in an intense staring match. The world melted away as Draco focused solely on his opponent. He tried to think of which silent curse to throw at Greyback, but failed to notice the figure that had stepped into the shadows of the doorway. Daphne, however, did not.

With surprising calmness, she nodded towards the silent figure and said, "I'd be less worried about him and more worried about her."

Fenrir stiffened and whirled around. "Luxe-" he began. But before he could mutter out the hex, the figure had sent her own spell his way.

Greyback screamed and stumbled past the cloaked figure and into the hallway. Only then did Draco and Daphne see that his eye sockets were bloody pools. Draco felt Daphne shudder against his body and couldn't help but agree with her disgust.

As their would-be attacker thundered down the hallway, the two Slytherins watched their savior with trepidation. Spitting in the direction Greyback had fled, she turned back to face the two teenagers. The anger in her eyes and flush in her cheeks only added to the frighteningly insane appearance of Bellatrix Lestrange.

As her gaze fell on Draco, who had finally lowered his wand, she sneered. "Couldn't even take out a half-breed, Draco? How pathetic."

Draco felt his hand twitch reflexively and resisted the urge to snap back at his aunt. Unlike her sister, Bellatrix had never mastered the art of control and, nephew or not, Draco knew she would not hesitate to turn her wand on him if she so desired. So instead he stood there silently, waiting for his aunt to make the next move.

"Perhaps I should have let him finish you off. Especially if you were foolish enough to put yourself on the line for this stupid bint."

There was a sharp intake of breath behind him and Draco could almost feel the fury radiating off of Daphne. Tightening his grip on her hand, he tried to silently warn her not to respond. But either she didn't realize the tight rope they were walking, or didn't care.

"Yes, that would have been a brilliant idea," Daphne spat sarcastically. "Let the werewolf breed with the pureblood. Goes against everything you stand for, doesn't it?"

Bellatrix cackled. "Oh, this one has a mouth on her, eh?" Abruptly turning serious, she pointed her wand at the two and glared. "You better watch your tongue, little bit, or someone might be inclined to remove it."

Thankfully this time, Daphne did not answer, and the three stood in a heavy silence. It felt like hours, but was likely no more than two minutes, before Bellatrix lowered her wand and tucked it in her robe. "Leave. Before I change my mind."

Draco didn't need to be told twice. Keeping a tight hold on Daphne, he ushered her past his aunt and all the way to the safety of his bedchambers. Only when they had shut and locked the door behind them did Draco release her.

"What were you thinking?" he started, his voice a mixture of anger and frustration with just a trace of worry. "You know better than to engage Bellatrix."

Daphne pushed her mahogany hair over her shoulder and huffed. "What did you expect me to do, Draco? Just stand there and take it?"

"Yes!" he answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You should have kept your mouth shut instead of spouting off like some foolhardy Gryffindor."

Rolling her eyes, Daphne flopped down on his king-sized bed. "Trying to put Bellatrix in her place doesn't make me a Gryff."

It took all of two seconds for Draco to stalk over to the bed and grab a hold of Daphne's shoulders. He shook her forcibly and she stared at him in shock. "But it will make you dead. Don't be an idiot, Daphne! The only way we're going to survive this is to stay out of the way."

She shook him off and stood, folding her arms under her chest and glaring at him in defiance. "You're telling me to just lie down and take it? I can't do that, Draco. I can't just stand here and do nothing. I hate being stuck in this house, with these people! I hate your stupid aunt, I hate this stupid war, and I hate the stupid Dark-"

"Shut it," Draco hissed, clamping a hand over her mouth.

Daphne furiously yanked the offending appendage away from her. "What? You think someone's listening outside the door?"

A knock sounded before Draco could answer and both teenagers paled. They took out their wands and Draco motioned for Daphne to stand back. She nodded and placed the bed between herself and the door, shooting him a look of apology. He nodded in understanding and quickly turned his attention to the door.

Squaring his shoulders, he lifted the locking spell and said, "Enter," quite proud that his voice never wavered.

The tension immediately drained from the room when Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy came in and shut the door behind them. As Narcissa cast impenetrable charms, Lucius grimly faced Draco and Daphne.

"Have you no common sense?" he snapped. "Do you have any idea what the repercussions would be if someone had heard you?"

Narcissa turned to her husband and laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Lucius," she lightly reprimanded. "They're only children."

Her words seemed to deflate him and Lucius Malfoy sunk heavily into the leather chair by Draco's fireplace, his head falling into his hands. Draco cast his eyes down, unable to witness the result of his handiwork. Never before in his life had Draco seen his father seem so downtrodden and, quite honestly, it frightened him more than the Dark Lord ever could.

"I'm sorry," Daphne whispered. "I should have known better."

"It's all right," Narcissa answered with a sad smile.

Draco was silent for a moment, his thoughts running wildly. In a way, Daphne was right. His family had become prisoners in their own home, slaves to the will of a demented dictator. And he'd had enough. The war no longer mattered to Draco as it once had. All he wanted now was to save his family, by any means necessary.

"Mother, father?" The elder Malfoys glanced up at their son. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Draco continued. "We can't do this anymore."

"We don't really have a choice in the matter, now do we?" Lucius wearily replied, though it lacked the sharp sarcasm he'd once been the master of.

Ignoring his father, Draco barreled on. "Even if—_he_ defeats the Order, where does that leave us? We're a _joke_ to them," Draco snarled, hatred dripping from every word. "If the Order wins, we're screwed. If we win, we're still screwed and who knows when he'll tire of us? He already tried to kill me once. What's to stop him from finishing the job."

"Me."

Draco spared his mother a small smile. He knew she meant it too. What ever else she may be, Narcissa Malfoy was a bloody good mother and Draco knew she'd sacrifice herself for him in a heartbeat. To be perfectly honest, that was one of the major reasons they had to get out of here. The more danger he was in, the more danger his mother was in. And Draco wasn't sure if he'd survive being responsible for his own mother's death.

From the sidelines, Daphne watched the unfolding events curiously. And, though she'd never admit it, she was slightly jealous of the bond Draco clearly had with his parents. Her own father had been more than a little aloof and her mother (perhaps the only caring person in her life) had died ten years previous. But, she shouldn't really complain. The Malfoys _had_ taken her in- even if their home was a war zone- and had treated her like a daughter ever since.

"The odds are against us." Draco continued. "Unless," he swallowed hard, "unless we side with the Order and help them win."

A pregnant silence fell over the quartet. For the first time in his life, Draco witnessed both of his parents unhinged. Narcissa's mouth had fallen open and Lucius' eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets. Had the situation not been so dire, Draco would have laughed.

"That's suicide," Lucius breathed.

"And staying here isn't?" Draco quickly retaliated. "Think about it. It's the only logical choice. And the only one where we come out on top. Even if our side wins and _he_ decides not to kill us, we're still on the bottom of the food chain. And if the other side wins, we all get thrown in Azkaban. The only way we can reclaim the Manor and keep our name intact is to side with the Order and help bring them to victory."

Draco was breathing heavily, chest heaving and fists tightly clenched. The more he thought about it, the more he knew he was right. It was the _only_ way. His parents had to see that. He'd make them see that.

Shaking her head, Narcissa replied, "We'd be fighting for a cause we don't believe in."

"We'd be fighting for _us_. It's not about the mudbloods anymore. Who cares if they're wiped out if we go with them?"

"All right, Draco," Lucius finally conceded. "Let's suppose for a moment that we did decide to switch over. What makes you think the Order would believe us?"

Draco opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it, stumped. He really hadn't gotten that far in his plotting. All of this had been so spur of the moment that he'd never stopped to think if Potter's side would actually let them join up.

"They wouldn't," Daphne said, finally engaging herself actively in the conversation. "But, they might believe me. I've never done anything to make the Gryffindor's think I sided with the Death Eaters." She paused, tilting her head to the side as if pondering something.

"In fact, I don't think most of them even know who I am. And I've got a feeling that with the Carrows in charge of the school this year, they'll be starting up their DA again. If I can get them to trust me, maybe I can get an audience with someone in the Order and argue your case. It'd be tricky, but it might work."

Silence met her response and for a second Daphne was nervous that she had over stepped her bounds. Perhaps she should have just kept her mouth shut (something she'd been having trouble with lately). But as she witnessed Narcissa's lips quirk up into a smirk and a gleam of respect appear in Lucius' eyes, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's actually ingenious," Draco said.

Daphne had to resist the temptation to roll her eyes at the surprise in his voice. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Any time," Draco replied with a smirk.

"We'll have to go about this delicately, but I think it might work." Lucius studied the two teens carefully. "It will take precise planning and execution. And, should anything go wrong, Narcissa and I are unable to leave the Manor. You'll be on your own."

Worry lines formed over Narcissa's delicate brow and she stepped forward, tightly grasping Draco's shoulders. "Are you sure this is what you want? You'll be placing yourself in a lot of danger."

"No more so than we're in now, thanks to me."

Narcissa tipped Draco's chin down so that her crystal blue eyes locked with his stormy gray ones. "We'll have no talk of that now. What's done is done and it's not your fault. Do you understand me?"

Reluctantly, Draco nodded. Narcissa offered him a slight smile and gently caressed his cheek before releasing him and stepping back to stand beside her husband. Lucius stood and encased her hand with his own.

"We won't be able to communicate by owls, they'll be monitored on both ends."

"I think I might have a solution to that problem," Daphne chimed in. "I've got two Elvin scrolls."

All three Malfoys stared at her in surprise. Elvin scrolls were extremely valuable. And extremely rare. They were always created in pairs and were magically bound to the owners. No other person could read what was on them, or even see them for what they were. Old magic at its best.

"One belonged to my father, but since he's gone, I can recast the spells to fit one to Draco and I and the other to you, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy."

Lucius nodded. "Good, very good Daphne."

A loud noise from the grandfather clock in the foyer rang through the house, signaling to all the occupants that it was quickly nearing two in the morning. Uncontrollably, Draco released a loud yawn. Lucius and Narcissa shared knowing looks, silently laughing at their son's predictability. Keep him up past two AM and he was practically useless.

"We'll leave you to your rest, love," Narcissa said. She stepped forward and placed a cool kiss on Draco's forehead before wrapping Daphne in a brief, but meaningful hug. "They'll be more time to talk tomorrow."

"Good night son, Daphne. And Draco, make sure that she gets to her rooms without incident."

The two men shared a dark look between their grey eyes. Lucius was well aware of Greyback's unhealthy curiosity with the newest resident of the Manor. And it especially worried him now that he had no power to stop it. He made a silent note to have Narcissa place more protection wards on her room before they went to bed.

As soon as Narcissa and Lucius exited the room, Daphne turned to face Draco, one eyebrow quirked in amusement.

"And who's the Gryffindor now?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Hey, I didn't suggest it because I've turned noble or some shite. It's just the most practical solution to our problems."

Daphne grinned. "Sure it is. But you realize that this means you're going to have to be at least semi-friendly with Potty and his gang, right?"

He paled in response. Bloody hell. He _hadn't_ thought of that. But it made sense now. If Draco wanted the Order to trust him, he'd have to get in with Potter and the Weasleys. He nearly shuddered at the thought.

"And you do know the Weaselette is in the DA? But don't worry, if she attacks you again, I know the counter to the Bat Bogey hex."

Draco glared as Daphne laughed. She just _had_ to bring that up again, didn't she? One time, _one time_, he'd been bested by a Weasley and she never let him live it down. He opened his mouth to respond, to point out that time last year when Zabini had handed her ass to her in a wizard's duel, but quickly thought better about it. For some odd reason, the Italian Slytherin was a touchy subject with Daphne. But both were keeping mum as to why.

Instead, Draco swallowed a sigh and followed Daphne as she flounced out of his room and down the hall to her own. It was going to be a rough semester, might as well let her enjoy herself when she could because only the gods knew how much longer they had until their world came crumbling down around them.

**A/N: So, there it is. Chapter two. I hope you all enjoyed it. There's a lot more dialogue than I'll normally have, but I thought it appropriate for this scene. And if it seems a little rushed, I apologize. Because this all happens so quickly for the characters, I wanted the readers to relate.**

**I'll have the next chapter up as soon as I can. And below, as per usual, is my reader poll as well as a note to some review comments I got. Cheers and I look forward to reading your responses!**

**On Reviews: Wow. I'm unbelievably overwhelmed by the positive feedback I got. I hope you all are onboard to read more, even though it's taken me forever to update. From the bottom of my heart, your words meant the world to me. I even giggled like a little girl (which my brothers teased me relentlessly for). Also, there are some specific comments I'd like to address. **

**1. Will I change ships? **Yes and no. Some I will, some I won't. But it's not dependent on whether or not I like them as a couple. The biggest problem I had with the ships in Harry Potter is that they were unrealistic. Speaking as an aunt and godmother, I want my nieces (and nephews, but girls have a higher rate of being blind when it comes to romance) to know that most high school couples are just that: high school couples. They don't go on to get married. Of course, some do. And if you (or your parents) are in that group of lucky few, congrats! But, most of us know that our first loves are not typically our only loves/last loves. And it saddened me that JKR painted a very simple picture about love when really it is very complex. Okay, that was terribly long winded and I apologize. Moving on.

**2. Is this going to be a D/G? **It started out that way, but as I began writing I realized how ridiculous I was being. This isn't my typical fluff work focusing on my favorite couple. I'm actually reattempting to write a book here. One of the things I disliked about JKR's Deathly Hallows is everything seemed planned. I don't want to make the same mistake. So, no. This is no longer a planned D/G. If it pans out that way, then so be it. I will go where the writing takes me (or the polls). So… I guess the real answer is I don't know. But, it will probably focus on Draco and Ginny the most, since they are more or less the leaders of the two different sides (Ginny of the DA and Draco of… well, you'll see what happens there).

**3. Can you make the Resurrection Stone actually resurrect people? And can you change Sirius' fate?** I'm not sure what I'm going to do about the Deathly Hallows yet. See below. And Sirius' fate is very much up in the air for me. I have some thoughts about what's going to happen, but no guarantees. You'll just have to read and see!

**Polls:**

**Results: **So the majority decided they want Lupin, Tonks, and Fred to live. Here is my promise to you that I will not kill any of those three characters off. Those of you who wanted Moody/Snape/Dobby/etc… to survive, don't fret. This doesn't mean they are all going to die. It just means they have not been granted immunity. And, by the way, Lupin, Fred, and Tonks, are the ONLY ones who have immunity. I reserve the right to kill off any one else I please (even if JKR did not).

**This Chapter's Poll:** You guys get a two for once special. But the catch is I'm not going to necessarily do what the majority wants. I just want to see what the general opinions are. However, there is a special treat in store for two lucky reviewers. Read below for more.

1st Poll: Do you think Harry should remain a Horcrux? I'm warning you in advance, if he does, I'm killing him off. I think it's absolutely bloody ridiculous that he died and came back to life. No other horcrux had that option (i.e. Nagini, another living being that was a horcrux) so why should he?

2nd Poll: Free for all. What couples would you like to see in this story? Realistic couples please, no Giant Squid/Dobby. The person who can give the most successful argument as to why their favorite couple should be together in this story will get their own spin-off one-shot featuring said couple.

And another lucky reviewer will win a cameo appearance in this story if they can guess my favorite reality tv show (we all have our guilty pleasures right?). Two completely independent clues: Puffin Boo and Bunny.

Also, I've decided after some deliberation, I'm not really going to change what happens to Harry, Ron, and Hermione while they're on their secret missions (unless change a death). It would take far too much time and I'm more interested in everyone else anyway. However, if I do decide to change something, there will be a chapter on it, I promise.

Now, make my day and please review!


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